


Covetous

by Sheba_Al_Hurra



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Adopted Children, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Child Abandonment, Dubious Consent, Family Bonding, Forced Bonding, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Mental Breakdown, Other, Platonic Relationships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-10
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-25 10:35:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17723549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sheba_Al_Hurra/pseuds/Sheba_Al_Hurra
Summary: Forced Adoption! AU where Pegasus won the shadow game against Bakura. As Pegasus clutched Ryo’s trembling form against his own with the shadow realm still ringing in his ears the honeyed voice of hope taunted “All is not lost yet.”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own yugioh. lf I did, I wouldn’t be writing fanfiction about it. 
> 
> A/N: Deep down I’ve always been a writer but somewhere along the way I lost faith in my skills and didn’t want to write if what I made would end up being awful. However, ever since I’ve had the pleasure of reading awesome fanfiction recently (shoutout to InTheShadowOfSignificance and Bellamy Taft) as well as a lot of free time since graduating college I’ve decided to rekindle my romance with writing, even if it does end up being terrible. I hope you enjoy reading!

_ "My millennium eye...my magic...it all failed me…" _

 

 

Pegasus tore himself from the dueling platform, rushing headlong out of the corridor leaving the shadow realm to dissipate and the stunned but victorious Yugi behind him to come to.   

 

_ Ruined, all ruined.   _ He felt both feverish and chilled at the same time, the realization of his failure sinking ever deeper into his gut, dragging his heart down with it.  It didn’t matter that he still had the soul of the boy’s grandfather, the souls of the Kaiba brothers, that he still held control over KaibaCorp. Without the puzzle to call forth Cecelia, to restore the very essence of her—all he was left with was a pretty lights machine and another company to bother with.  The millennium puzzle would only yield its power to one worthy enough to fairly win it in a shadow game; it was useless to a thief. He cursed himself; all his cunning, all his wealth and connections, only to be stopped short at the hands of a child. 

 

He dragged himself up the staircase to his private quarters to release the souls he had captured.  There wasn’t any point in keeping them anymore. Not when his reason for surviving without his other half was destroyed.  At the very least he could meet the afterlife as she knew him: a man of his word. 

 

His fingers fluttered over the soul cards of the Kaiba brothers and for a moment he faltered; to release their souls would mean accepting all the consequences that defeat entailed.   _ There could still be a way, _ a desperate voice within him entreated.  He dismissed the thought with a forceful shake; there was no longer any avenue left to gain Yugi’s puzzle.  The best he could do was come out of this with his pride intact. 

 

 In the light of the setting day the millennium eye flashed momentarily and the profiles of the Kaiba brothers vanished from their cards as their souls fled from their imprisonment.  As soon as he released them he felt a wave of despair engulf him. He wished there was a pit he could throw himself into, but he still had one more soul to free. He turned to face the portrait of his late wife to steel himself to discharge his last captive.

 

“Cecelia...my love...I’m sorry.  I have failed you.” he implored to her portrait, pleading with her to understand that he had done everything,  _ everything _ , he possibly could to restore her.  “My attempt to take over KaibaCorp, my efforts to obtain the millennium puzzle, they were all done for you my darling.  In the hopes that I could restore you body and soul and reunite us once more.” 

 

“How  _ sweet _ .” The mocking voice of a teenager shattered the intimacy with his wife like a brick through a chapel window.

 

**_Who would dare!?_ **   He felt a current of rage pulse through his veins that screamed at him to strangle the living daylights out of the insolent trespasser but it was then that he noticed the glittering piece of gold around the boy’s neck.    

 

“You!  You’re the one who has the millennium ring!” Of all the people in the world to swagger in his private chambers and have the brass to provoke him, Yugi-boy’s cheerleader was the last person he imagined. 

 

“Yes, and I intend to have all the items.  Care to wager yours in a shadow game? What you couldn’t win from Yugi perhaps you can win from me.”  

 

Pegasus felt both indignantly furious at the patronizing words and stupidly hopeful.  But beneath the arrogance, however, was an unshakeable confidence that made Pegasus instantly suspicious.  To wager a millennium item was an unparalleled risk, a risk both he and little Yugi had undertaken only to reclaim those who made life without them worse than the shadow realm.  But the temptation of a second chance, so soon after his defeat, was too much for him to resist.

 

“What are your terms?”

 

Bakura smiled like the cat whose dinner had just walked itself onto the platter.

“Your millennium item allows you to look into people’s minds Pegasus,” He said casually, conversationally, as though this was all just a friendly chat between amiable acquaintances. “Mine allows me to see into their souls.” He strode over to Pegasus’s desk as if he owned it and, Pegasus noted with a flare of irritation, helped himself to his deck, shuffling it before laying out three cards face down. 

“I have but to look into your deck Pegasus and it reveals to me your true nature.” he drawled as he flipped the first card face up.  “The happy lover card shows that you have experienced the joys of love. However this card is upside down which means your romance ended in tragedy.  What a pity.” At this he gave Pegasus an amused glance before moving to flip the next card.

 

“Well, the next card should show me more about your present than your past.  Ah, the mask of darkness,” he said with a knowing smile. “So your recent actions were all just an effort to mask your true objectives, objectives that came from deep within your heart?”  He sounded gleeful at the thought of stripping bare Pegasus’s cherished desires. “Who would’ve thought that you even had a heart? Let alone one so easily broken.”

 

“Quiet!”  He had had enough of this little shit mocking his failures.  “Let’s just play the game!”

 

Bakura smirked in a way that made Pegasus want to punch him. “But first there is one more card to be revealed.  Don’t you want to know your future?”

 

Despite the fury he felt Pegasus felt a tremor of apprehension at the boy’s words.  He had not become the CEO of Industrial Illusions by indulging in emotional tempests when a crisis came knocking.  He knew in his bones with the same instinct that had told him that his business partners were trying to screw him, that Cecelia was never going to recover, and that Kaiba-boy would go to the ends of the earth for his brother, that the seeming child in front of him would shred him to pieces given half a chance.  

 

“Doma, the angel of silence.” The wolf-faced teenager intoned softly.  “It’s an appropriate card for your future since I will now silence you forever.” At this the boy turned to face him, the millennium ring glowing brightly on his chest, its end edges pointing towards him.  “Prepare yourself mortal for a shadow game the likes of which you’ve never played! For this match will be played on the landscape of our minds!” 

 

Instantly, he knew he had made a mistake.  

 

He had barely a moment to prepare himself before the spiritual power of the millennium ring shot towards him and he was just able to scrounge up enough energy to defend himself before Bakura’s force was stopped by his own just inches from his eye.  

 

The shadow game had just begun and it was all he could do to defend himself from Bakura’s penetration into the very recesses of his mind.  The spiritual power of the ring was merciless; he could feel it trying to claw its way into his mind with mental lances assailing him from all sides, constantly searching for a way in like a starving serpent that had cornered a helpless mouse in its hole.  Just as in his duel with Yugi he had overestimated the power of his millennium eye; while the millennium eye gave him the power to know the secrets of his enemies it was limited by his own stamina and strength. 

 

And while it appeared that the millennium ring could not read minds and steal the secrets of opponents the same way the millennium eye could, he quickly realized that it made up for that in the terrifying  _ blood lust  _ radiating off of it.  Its spiritual energy threatening to penetrate into his mind and  _ violate  _ it.  He had been too eager, too desperate after his loss to focus on anything but winning his dream back that he hadn’t considered what he could  _ lose _ . 

 

Beyond the sound of his frenzied efforts to stop what was quickly seeming to be the inevitable devastation of his mind he heard the boy laugh.   _ Strange _ , he thought, for such a vicious creature to have such an innocent laugh.  

“Really now, Pegasus is that all you can muster? Ah, but you’ve been fatigued by your shadow duel with Yugi; your mind is weary while mine is fresh!” The fair-haired teenager tossed his head back and laughed and once again Pegasus could not help but feel disturbed at how  _ unnatural  _ the gleeful laugh sounded out of the boy’s throat.  

 

Every second that passed brought the looming devastation that he had walked right into nearer and nearer.  It wasn’t a matter of if he would succumb; it was a matter of when.  _ At the very least _ , he thought bitterly,  _ this hell will be over _ .  He knew from experience of overwhelming the minds of others that it would be easier to give in.  Once he let down his mental barriers and allowed the stronger opponent entrance, his consciousness would be swept away to oblivion.  His attacker would rightfully claimed the eye and banish him to the shadow realm. But while he had allowed himself to become a villain, he would not let this wretch to steal his pride.

 

Scrounging up every last bit of ferocity he had left he threw himself at the devil masquerading as a lamb, battering with his whole being against Bakura’s defenses.  His righteous rage, his overwhelming grief, his consuming bitterness, he rallied them all in his arsenal to fight in his last stand. If he couldn’t avenge himself against the one who felled him he could at least do some damage as his parting gift.  The heady mixture of rage and desperation that rushed through his veins made him feel invincible the way men on the battlefield who saw death grinning down at them became berserkers.

 

_ There it was.  _  He nearly didn’t recognize it when he found it, almost passed over it.  Not an opening, not something nearly so vulnerable, but a place where that devil’s defenses weren’t as strong.  There was blackness crowding the edge of his vision with his battle fury quickly draining but he launched himself against the barricade all the same.  He already knew he wasn’t going to penetrate through to the inner sanctum but he could at least impair the boy’s fortification for the next enemy to exploit.  He had expected to make a dent in the white haired boy’s defenses or even to be rebuffed by a shield of spiritual energy. 

 

He hadn’t expected what felt like  _ arms  _ try to yank him within the boy’s mind and a terrified voice screaming   _ “Please, help me!”   _

 

Stunned, he didn’t capitalize on the opportunity offered to him, immediately suspicious of a trap.  It was too convenient, too miraculous to be genuine. And yet after a moment’s hesitation he found himself rushing into the opening regardless, because while the chances were slim that  entering into the doorway wouldn’t end in annihilation, remaining outside certainly would.

 

 

_ The terrible scream of metal grinding upon metal swelled in the car until it seemed to seep into everything.  His mother’s body was flung from the driver’s seat into the windshield, hugging the broken fragments beneath her as red oozed over the hood of the car.  The acrid stench of smoke and blood choked him when he inhaled and burned him where his skin was exposed but did nothing to impair his sight. His sister who had been sleeping against his shoulder during the ride was thrashing against the seat, sputtering helplessly against the shard of windshield lodged in her throat, blood spurting out every time she tried to gasp in a breath.  _

 

_ “Amane..!” He rasped; there was barely any moisture left in his throat for him to speak, but he needed to reach her; if he could just touch her, just hold her, he knew he could put her back together again.  Everything hurt, every nerve in his body screamed in agony when he tried to move but he needed to touch her first. He just needed to touch her and she would be fine. He twisted his arm free from underneath the driver’s seat and as he stretched out his arm to grasp her he could feel where his bone had broken through the skin and the air burned the shard of his bone with icy fury.      _

 

_ His fingertips grazed her skin and her skin was cold, so cold, but it was okay, because he was there and she would be fine.  She was still spurting blood from the glass in her throat but that was okay too, because he was there and he could fix it and he squeezed her hand to let her know.  Her eyelids fluttered open when he did and her eyes rolled wildly until they met his and despite the blood that was surely choking her and the pain that must’ve been unbearable, his sister, his precious, precious sister squeezed his hand back.  It didn’t matter that his body was being slowly crushed under the seat or that he could feel his bones popping out of his skin. He and Amane were together. That was all that mattered.  _

 

_ Nothing existed.  Nothing else was real except their hands together.   _

 

_ Her breathing had slowed, the blood coming out of her neck in slower and shallower spurts but she was still holding his hand.  She didn’t take her eyes off him either, her eyes half closed but still looking at him.  _

 

_ In the darkness of the car Amane’s bloodless face glowed like the full moon and her luminous  eyes were so bright Ryo thought he could use their light to find his way back home as lost sailors did with stars.  Suddenly, she started to wheeze and gasp, frantically trying to inhale but unable to, her left hand clawing at her seat but her other hand clutching his weakly, still looking at him.  He squeezed her hand tighter, tighter, because as long as he was touching her he would never let anything happen to her but he couldn’t deafen himself to the crescendo mounting in his ears.  Those shining eyes were wide open and threatening to pierce into his and he looked right back, refusing to look away even if it blinded him. Her eyes went wider, wider, wider, the pupil expanding until it seemed to swallow up her iris and her eyes were just two horrible black discs on white that seemed to mock him and the monstrous roar in his ears howled with triumph.   _

 

_ With a sound like the air escaping from a tire the tension slipped from her face, her eyes snapping shut and her lax mouth gaping open.  There was silence now, stillness so final it seemed to erase the fury that had preceded it moments before. For the first time that night, panic found him.    _

 

_ The fountain of blood that had been spurting from his sister’s throat had now stopped; a gentle trickle now took its place and that terrified Ryo more than anything.   “Amane..” Ryo whispered, knowing that the terrible silence, the potential eternal stillness, could only be broken by Amane’s voice. “Amane!” He called out louder; his voice was the high screech of crushed glass.  “Amane!!” He screamed now. The pain was nothing compared to the panic. _

 

_ He thrashed in his seat in spams, his arms and legs flailing and kicking, screaming with all the pain, fury and dwindling life he possessed  to try and shatter the terrible silence, to smash the stillness that seeped into everything.  _

 

_ “AMANE!!!  AMANE!!! AMANE!!” He screamed over and over again; if he could just break the stillness, if he could just stop the silence from--- _

 

_ This wasn’t his memory! _

 

 

Pegasus ripped himself from the memory that had almost consumed him, his own consciousness barely holding itself cohesive and separate from being absorbed into Ryo’s mind.  

 

Dear God, this boy had almost swallowed him whole!  The nightmare that had almost devoured him wasn’t the memory of the monster who had challenged him; Ryo must have a spirit sharing his body like little Yugi.  He needed to hold his soul together and get the hell out of the boy’s memories before he forgot his own existence. 

 

Despite the position he found himself in he felt a fount of gratitude swell up in him.  He had nearly had his soul banished to the shadow realm and his eye ripped from his skull.  Ryo, the  _ real  _ Ryo, had saved him from certain destruction but why?  What would make Ryo so desperate to betray the spirit of the ring, his partner?     

 

_ There’s only one way to find out.   _

 

He would have to fight his way out.

 

Years of using the MIllennium eye had made Pegasus Crawford an expert in understanding the minds of people he spied on; if he ever decided to abandon his company he could be the world’s most successful therapist.  But he had been a spectator before. Now he was a gladiator in the arena. If he was overwhelmed, if he didn’t make sure to maintain his own consciousness, he would be absorbed into the child’s mind forever.

 

At the present moment he was in what looked to be a vast corridor of some sorts that looked to be underground.   Behind him he could see the bloodstained door that housed Ryo’s worst memory bolted shut with what had to be enough chains to subdue a giant.  Pegasus could see his own body, his soul’s chosen avatar within Ryo’s mind, transparent and intangible, but when he focused his spiritual energy he became opaque and heard the weighty thud of his feet hitting the ground.  

 

So it would seem that the strength of his avatar within Ryo’s mind was directly related to how strong a spiritual presence he maintained.  All the better, then, that he press on as quickly as possible before his stamina was exhausted and he dissipated. He took a moment to assess his surroundings, turning around full circle and surveying his settings carefully.  The dripping stone walls that surrounded him were caked with lichen and seemed to curve inwards before turning sharply in three directions to two corridors on the right and left and one winding path ahead that twisted out of sight.  Upon closer inspection he could see that the bolted doorway that he had just escaped from was rusted and groaned feebly against the weathered chains that held it shut.

 

He took a few steps down the passageway to examine a particularly large mass of lichen that had taken over a chunk of the stone wall.  He rubbed his fingers against it feeling the damp plant crumble into his hand as his skin came into contact with smooth wood. He hesitated a moment and then with both hands began rubbing away the plant matter until the greenery gave way to the wooden structure underneath.  He was faced with a door that had once been painted a cheery yellow, but now appeared a faded mustard color. The doorknob was tarnished and the hinges blanched, though they had probably shined gold once. At three and a half feet tall and two feet wide it seemed as if it had been made with a toddler in mind.  Although how a toddler could reach a door set up five feet from the ground was beyond him. 

 

Grasping the aged handle he gave an experimental pull with equal parts curiosity and caution and succeeded in getting the lock to turn and the door to creak open an inch.  A waft of warm air heavy with the smell of cinnamon hit his nose and he could hear the faint squeal of a little girl’s laugh. So this was a happy memory. Old, and nearly forgotten, but happy.  

 

Knowledge was power and he was going to need every bit he could get if he wanted to get out of the child’s mind alive.  With that in mind Pegasus grasped the handle of the door firmly and pulled with all the conviction of a man asking for a bride’s hand.  

 

_ The sunlight shined down in a arabesque between the trees, making the tall grasses come alive and twist serpentine in a dance of gold and amber.  Flat on his belly with the hum of cicadas against his skin and the hot air in his lungs he knew he belonged to the forest just as much as the birds in their nests and the foxes in their holes.  Like his fellow forest creatures, he knew what it was like to want and to fear. _

 

_ It was a difficult thing to hide from someone and try to find them at the same time.  He thought that Amane’s platinum blonde hair would’ve given her away by now, a challenge he had overcome by camouflaging his hair with bits of the yellow grass and the red dirt, but he should’ve figured that she could be just as sly as him. _

 

_ A flutter of movement in the grasses ahead of him caught his attention.  It was too big to be a rabbit and too small to be a doe. That left only one option.   _

 

_ He felt a smile spread across his face as he raised himself into a crouch, legs tense and ready to start sprinting full speed ahead.  Silly Amane, she always got clumsy when she got excited.  _

 

_ The rustling of the grasses came closer this time, only a couple strides away.  Perfect. Trying to quell his growing excitement from giving him away he took a deep, silent breath to calm himself.  He exhaled slowly between his teeth, his eyes concentrated on the spot ahead of him with all the focus of a starving spider on a fly. _

 

_ Like a rubber band snapping, his legs propelled him into the air in a moment of flight before the balls of his feet struck the spongy earth like a match against sandpaper.  He catapulted himself forward the last few strides and threw himself onto the quivering grasses.  _

 

_ He wrapped his arms around his sister’s waist and began to pull her up against him to start carrying her off to his lair to devour her except-- _

 

_ Except Amane wasn’t nearly this big and would’ve started pouting at this point instead of shaking with repressed laughter.  Ryo opened his eyes tentatively to see his captured quarry. Instead of Amane’s spindly body caught in the web of his arms and legs he was sprawled across a yellow gingham-covered back.  Swan arms grasped him and turned him around and Ryo felt very silly indeed because it was Mama who was laughing underneath him, turning him around and catching him in her arms, her diamond white hair hidden with a yellow bandanna and her basket of cinnamon cookies underneath her.  Laughter bubbled up and out of the two of them, and Ryo wondered if this was how the universe began. _

 

Pegasus felt his heart clench and his body tense as he cut the link to the glimpse of happiness he had just seen.  Ryo couldn’t have been older than six in that memory. He felt a pang in his chest at the knowledge that the boy’s happy memory in the sun was almost completely forgotten, too close to his worst memory to revisit.  

Even after his parents had passed...even after Cecelia had left this world...he could still look back.  That was all he did anymore. Then again, he was a grown man who had already made and lived a life before it had all been torn from him.  But a child, a baby really, who had barely begun to live before the only experience he had with intimacy and closeness was despoiled by unspeakable horror?  Pegasus didn’t blame him for throwing out the baby with the bathwater so to speak, considering how poisonous the bathwater was.

But alongside his empathy for the boy he could feel panic begin to tether into his muscles in a desperate prayer to keep moving, to keep treading above the swampy mire that had almost swallowed him whole, a terrible warning ringing in his skull not to wade too deeply into Ryo’s memories.  

 

Before Ryo drowned him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Chapter Two is up! Thanks a lot to everyone who reviewed and favorited this story, I’m so grateful and humbled that you guys liked this story enough to leave a review and to keep on reading. Thanks to bravelove, Bellamy Taft and Lalalei for the wonderful reviews, I’m honored and special thanks to InTheShadowOfSignificance for her awesome editing skills and inspiring me to write this story in the first place. Enjoy everyone!

**_“Those who restrain desire do so because theirs is weak enough to be restrained.”_ **

**_William Blake, The Marriage of Heaven And Hell_ **

 

There were many more doors as Pegasus made his way through the labyrinth of Ryou’s mind, the millennium eye guiding him ever deeper.  Most were false ends, loops that ended in the same fantasy playing over and over again of his mother secretly being alive and coming to get him, his sister Amane reborn into another body and finding her at school.  He opened them all the same, determined to know everything he could before he faced the boy’s soul room. 

A few doors swung open easily, brief, happy memories that Ryo revisited regularly; his father sending him one of his monthly letters, a teacher ruffling his hair affectionately, watching the season finale of  _ Transformers  _ with a bowl of ice cream.  Most of the doors however, groaned upon opening, tucked away into alleys or hidden under alcoves of hanging moss, where Pegasus had to stoop to enter to pull open a door that was rusted over from efforts to forget it.  He closed the door he just entered, feeling his stomach rumbling despondently after watching Ryou eat peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for a year in the sixth grade, followed by the year of frozen dinners in the seventh grade, and, finally, when he learned how to cook without poisoning himself  in the eighth. 

It was all at once very impressive and very tragic that Ryou had learned to do at twelve what most people didn’t learn to do until their twenties; what with remembering to schedule dentist appointments, registering himself for classes, and budgeting the money his father sent him to pay the bills and save a little for emergencies and  _ Transformers  _ action figures.  Ryou’s situation could have been tolerable, even somewhat enjoyable, if it wasn’t for the crushing loneliness he endured every time he made his way back home from school. Pegasus had felt a disturbing chill of familiarity run up his spine at the sight of the boy watching cartoons by himself on Christmas.  It wasn’t that Ryou was unpleasant to be around or was unwilling to socialize, Pegasus surmised, as the boy grasped at any inkling of friendship with overly generous favors and gifts; it was his appearance that was the problem.

  Sweet, baby-faced Ryou, with his snow white hair and soft demeanor would have stood out as a target to bullies regardless.  Pegasus had winced when he had seen Ryo, in an especially weak moment, try to hug a teammate farewell who had been friendly with him during their soccer game, only to be rebuffed with a scornful ‘fag’ and a disgusted glance before his teammate joined his buddies to bad-mouth Ryou for ‘being such a gay bitch.’ In a way, Pegasus thought, Ryou reminded him of himself when was young, too naive to know that any deviance from macho thuggery would have consequences and too sweet to protect himself from those who would hurt him.  Though of course, he had never known such boorishness until he had left his family estate at seventeen. 

Despite his commitment to remain aloof, Pegasus could feel the heat pooling in his stomach on behalf of the lonely boy.   Vulgar, classless, tasteless beasts was what those thugs were. Unwillingly, he felt a strong sense of deja vu, as his last encounter with Bandit Keith washed over him.  That brute who had dared to cheat in front of him, threaten him, had grated upon him with his mere presence. Men like Bandit Keith, men that tormented Ryou were weak, pathetic men, desperately trying to prove their fragile sense of manliness and self worth by preying upon those who were more obviously vulnerable. As if they, in their most private moments, did not also tremble at their fears and soothe themselves.   

His musings were cut short however, when he was stopped abruptly by a gaping chasm that swallowed up the path he was on and seemed to stretch on into oblivion.   He felt his millennium eye burn red-hot in skull and knew he had reached the entrance to Ryou’s soul room. As he leaned over to look down in the abyss he felt a gust of cold air from the depths swirl his hair into a halo and turn the skin on his neck into gooseflesh.  Obviously, someone didn’t want anyone coming in.  _ Or anyone getting out, _ he thought darkly.  

Pegasus felt the hateful bud of fear blossom within him, petals unfurling to leach the courage from his bones.  Ryou’s first, horrible memory that he had almost drowned in would be nothing compared to this. Memories, fantasies, and dreams were all the vain trappings of what a person wished and thought they were but the soul room was a person’s naked skin.  Even without being exhausted from the shadow game with the other Ryou and battling through so many memories Pegasus would still be hard pressed to hold his own, much less win.  _ Can I survive this _ , he wondered.  Unbidden, the image of Cecilia came to him, honey curls and blue eyes carving judgement into him.  At once he felt ashamed and intransigent. He would win because he had to. He would win because she needed him to.             

 Pegasus looked down at his hand, ghostly and blurred around the edges.  He tightened his fist until the veins bulged, proud and rigid against his skin and felt the strength buzzing through his veins.  This time when his wife’s face appeared in his mind’s eye he didn’t flinch. With arms spread wide he stepped forward into the nothing, smiling as he did, and embraced the chasm as he fell down, down, down into the darkness of the beginning.

  
  


 

_ “Papa!” Ryou cried out, feet pounding down the sidewalk as he ran as fast as his legs could carry him.  His father was smiling faintly, standing in front of the gate to the house, his arms hanging awkwardly at his sides, looking out of place.  Ryo didn’t care; after three years his father was home and he didn’t want to ever let him go.  _

_ He threw his arms around his father’s neck gracelessly, feet dangling off the ground, burying his face into Papa’s neck.  His father tentatively held him, arms it seemed touching him only enough so that he wouldn’t fall. After a brief moment, too brief, Papa set him down, holding him at arm’s length to inspect him.  “You look good champ, how you been? You been eating well?”  _

_ Ryou smiled modestly.  “I’ve been okay Papa. I know how to feed and take care of myself you know.” Of course, he had just weaned off himself frozen dinners and finally learned to budget his money so that the power wasn’t cut, but Papa didn’t need to know that. _

_ Papa smiled, his eyes crinkling around the edges. “That’s my boy.  I knew I could trust you to hold down the fort. Hey, let’s get some grub at that restaurant you like, Luche’s? _

_ Papa could have suggested they eat dinner at the city dump and Ryo would have still felt lucky, as long as they were together.  Ryo looked up into his father’s face. “I’d love that more than anything Papa.” _

_ Walking through the door to Luche’s felt like walking into a time machine.  The cartoonish decals were still on the walls with the same mobster theme that had dazzled him at nine.  It still had the arcade where he and Amane would play Pacman together before the food came and the corner booth that Mom always insisted on because she liked how private it was.  When the appetizers came Ryou tucked into the food with relish, nearly finishing it by himself before sheepishly offering his father the last barbeque wing.  _

_ Papa laughed, holding his hands up, “I’m good champ, I wouldn’t want to lose any fingers.  A growing kid like you needs all he can gets.”  _

_ It was true.  Budgeting the money he was sent every month meant he had to be careful with how much food he bought and he hadn’t been to a restaurant since before the car accident.  It had been hard, always having to worry about the water being shut off or forgetting to pick up his anxiety medication after studying for final exams. But Papa was back now, and he could put that behind him. _

_ “Well, tomorrow night when you try my casserole I’ll make sure to make enough for both of us.” The smile fell from Papa’s face.  Oh no. What had he done, what the hell had he done to ruin everything? _

_ “Well, you see, the thing is buddy,” Papa awkwardly scratched the back of his head and Ryou felt the terror building in his gut.  Champ, buddy, kiddo, Papa would call him anything except his name. Why won’t you say my name, why won’t you look me in the eyes, he wanted to scream. _

_ “They still need me at this dig in Saqqara, Egypt.  It’s really important stuff kiddo, but I just wanted to check on you and see how you’re doing.  I know you’re going into highschool next year and I wanted to tell you how proud I am of you and see if you needed anything.” Papa pulled up the leather satchel he had been carrying since he had arrived, pulling out something wrapped in a blue scarf.  _

_ “Here, I brought you something” he said gruffly.  “One of the holy men in Egypt I met at the dig gave this to me, said someone I knew was meant to have it.  It’s supposed to guide the person who wears it to their deepest desire. God knows if there’s anyone who deserves it, it’s you.”  _

_ Ryou wasn’t sure if he wanted to laugh at the pathetic apology or cry and beg Papa to stay with him.  He didn’t want some stupid jewelry, even it was from ancient Egypt. He wanted Papa to say he would come back and never leave again. He wanted him to say he was sorry for leaving in the first place and even if Mom and Amane were gone he and Ryo could still live on as a family.  Three years he had been agonizing for the day when Papa would come home. Be patient, he had told himself, when he went to sleep in the middle of winter when the heat had been shut off. It’s okay, he had told himself, when the other boys had beaten him so badly he couldn’t get out of bed.  Just a little longer, he had told himself, when he was sure that he was hallucinating after spending spring break completely alone.  _

_ But Papa would never come home. _

_ This was the new status quo.  The new normal. He should’ve known that after the accident nothing would ever go back to the way it was.  As if he and Papa could still continue on, as if the tie that had bound them as family hadn’t been thrown through a windshield and buried in a closed casket. _

_ There couldn’t be a future without them.  The possibility had never existed.  _

_ “Thank you, Papa”  he whispered, as he accepted the gift.  He would kill himself tonight. He would kill himself because he knew, since the day they died, that this was the only future he had ever wanted.  Even if Papa came home, even if everything was beautiful and perfect, a day wouldn’t pass when he wouldn’t want to be with Mom and Amane. And he was tired of pretending that there would be.   _

_ Papa relaxed his shoulders.  “Of course, champ. Anything for you.” _

  
  
  
  


_ Papa dropped him off in front of their--his house.  He had a late night flight to catch but he promised Ryou he would call him when he arrived.   _

_ “Take care of yourself, kid.” Papa pressed several hundred dollar bills into his hand. “Enjoy yourself, you deserve it.”  Papa clapped his hand on his shoulder, and for the first time since he had come back, seemed to truly look at him. “Good luck, Ryou.”  And without another word Papa got back in his car and drove off, leaving Ryo in the front yard with a fist full of hundreds. _

_ Ryou watched the car fade away into the distance, as the sun slowly succumbed to the horizon and the wind carried off the wispy dreams. “Goodbye Papa,” he whispered, to the ghost who had once been his father.       _

  
  


_ Overdose, Ryou reflected, would be a beautiful way to die.   _

_ Taking his regular dose for anxiety had always made him feel slightly buzzed; taking the whole bottle would feel like sleeping on a cloud.   _

_ Lying on his roof under the night sky, Ryou didn’t feel like he would be dying so much as he would be ascending.  Life wasn’t so fierce in the darkness; it was softer, gentler, muted. The day skewered your eyes with the truth; it forced you to acknowledge it every aching second.  But in the dark… What truly existed in the dark? He could be lying on top of a volcano or a dinosaur, his backyard could be a safari or a wilderness, he could be a different boy with a different life.  Nothing could be proven in the dark.  _

_ If it was always like this, if the day wasn’t so long… he could survive.  He could exist in the darkness as nothing; without memory or fear or grief.   _

_ But he knew, as surely as the seconds passing by, that the day would peel back the night and the tender veil that had shielded the world would be stripped and the vulgar truth would once again gloat at his misery. _

 

_ Ryou popped the cap off the bottle, letting the pills fall into his hand.  He didn’t bother with water, it wasn’t like he needed to worry about heartburn later.  Though, he thought as he popped the handful of pills in his mouth, swallowing them all down felt like trying to suck down a stone.  After ten minutes he started to feel tingling in his fingers.  _

 

_ He felt happy, joyful even.  He was warm all over and being outside felt lovely.  He laughed, and was delighted at the way the sound seemed to echo around him.  A friend. He rolled in pleasure and felt his balance shift, sending him tumbling down ten feet down to the balcony.  He giggled when he hit the ground; the ground hadn’t hurt him, it had hugged him hello. He stretched himself against the ground, letting his head loll back.  Uh-oh. He was going to vomit.  _

_ He struggled to get on his hands and knees but he kept sinking down.  Vomit surged up and drenched his shirt and hair in his own puke. Ew. He tugged his shirt off, trying to wipe off the excess vomit in his hair with it but his shirt was only spreading the yuck.  He spied a blue scarf by the door. He could use that to get the goop out of his hair. _

_ Pulling himself forward the few feet to the door shouldn’t have felt so tiring but it did.  He managed to yank the blue scarf out of his satchel, the fabric resisting before yielding and something gold jangled out.  Papa’s gift. The necklace he had tried to bribe him with so he wouldn’t feel guilty.  _

_ A burst of rage swelled up in him at the sight of the hated thing.  He grabbed it, intending to chuck the fucking thing...but he stopped.  Once in his hand the Ring seemed to glow as bright as a star and he was fascinated.  Holding it, he thought it almost radiated its own warmth. It was beautiful, Ryo thought, even if it did have that weird eye in the middle of it.  He pulled it over his head, letting the pendant thump against his bare chest. Warm as he was, the Ring was even warmer. _

_ He could feel himself growing sleepy and he wished he was closer to his bed so he could sleep comfortably but he couldn’t find the energy to keep his eyes open, much less walk.  Though, the ground didn’t matter that much because he could hardly feel it. Hell, he could hardly tell he had a body at all. _

_ The Ring burned hotter against his skin and now he regretted putting it on in the first place.   Hotter, hotter and hotter the Ring burned until it pierced the drug-induced haze that enthralled him. If only he had the strength to pull it off; it felt like it was going to sear the skin off his chest. Oh God he had to get up, get this fucking thing off!  It felt like it was trying to roast him! Weakness be damned, he yanked and clawed at the Ring but the points of the Ring seemed to have hooked into his chest and he could feel his skin resisting where he pulled. A terrible roiling fear was building in his gut, and even his blood seemed to burn as he writhed on the floor.  Something primitive and carnivorous bellowed and his very bones quailed at the sound. A sound like the guttural moan of a hyena rang through the air and he couldn’t stop the whimper that escaped him.  _

_ He was on his hands and knees now, blindly crawling and sobbing as he tried to run from the flying savagery that pursued him.  He threw open the veranda door, dragging himself across the threshold but he still wasn’t safe, still wasn’t far away enough from it.  The screeching howl reverberated throughout the living room and he fouled himself in his terror. Dear God where was it coming from! He heard it behind him and he lunged ahead; he felt it on his right and he dodged to his left; a shadow passed in front of him and he shrank back.  He heard the deafening moan again, a sinister keening, shake through every inch of him and seep out through his skin. The abomination wasn’t chasing him.  _

_ It was inside him.  _

_ Like claws shifting into fingers the roar melded and changed until something resembling speech with no less of its beastliness roared its refrain until it was scored into his skull.   _

_ “LIVE RYOU, LIVE!” The voice screamed “LIVE! LIVE! LIVE!” _

_        The order defied all logic and sense of biology but he obeyed it nonetheless.  He tore through the living room, sweeping past the entryway and throwing the front door open before tumbling out. _

_ “HELP! HELP!” Ryou screamed, “HELP! HELP HELP!” It was not death he feared, but the wrath of the monster. _

_            Even with the unholy surge of power in his veins his body was slowing down, darkness eating away at the margins of his vision.  But before the black completely ate his sight he saw a neighbor run out of their home in fright, pulling out a phone at the sight of his collapsed figure.          _

  
  
  


_ In the land of beginnings and ends, death entreated the boy to stay, but the darkness whispered that he was no longer alone, and the boy decided to return. _

  
  
  
  


_ As his nurse took care to change the iv in his arm Ryo wondered at how he came to his situation in the first place.  He wasn’t sure what changed, or even how, but he knew one thing: he wanted to live.  _

_ The first thing he had done when he had woke up was to check how much damage the Ring had done to his chest, but when he pulled his sheets down all he saw was the same milky white skin without a single scar to remember the ordeal.  The Ring was on the nightstand next to him and seemed to almost gleam at him in longing until Ryou put it back on; it felt like welcoming an old friend. A social worker came by later in soothing tones to ask about him and even though Ryou had never been good with words or at improvising he was surprised at how smoothly the lie came off his lips, how he could tell the from the social worker’s relieved expression that she believed it was an accident, a mixup of medications. He even believed himself.  With a comforting embrace and an order to call if he needed anything he was discharged from the hospital. _

_ Even going home by himself didn’t carry the same dread it usually did; he was actually looking forward to the privacy.  Instead of throwing together an omelet or reheating a frozen pizza he used the money Papa left him to order in from a pricier restaurant that he had been curious about.  While he waited for the food to arrive he finished his chores with a satisfied contentment, before soaking in the bath and putting on the new clothes he had bought earlier. _

_ When the food arrived he thanked the delivery driver warmly, with lowered lashes and a demure smile, enjoying the flustered response he received.  He set the food out on top of the white linen of the table, taking care not to knock over the candles. As he sat down and began to eat he realized that it was the first time since Mom and Amane had passed he enjoyed the simple pleasure of a nice meal.  When he went to bed that night he did not fret over facing another day at school or worry about the nightmares that plagued him. Instead, he dreamed of a place where pyramids replaced skyscrapers and the sand stretched on forever: a place called Kul Elna.   _

  
  


_ At school, Ryou realized that even his classmates noticed the change.  Nobody could say what it was exactly, but something fundamental had changed.  The typical patheticness and desperation that had hung over Ryo like a deathly pallor was gone, replaced by an ancient shrewdness in his eyes and an unabashed relish for life in his bearing.  His hunched gait had turned into a languid, efficient stride; his speech once appeasing and embarrassed, was now the polished vernacular of a diplomat. Even his school uniform hung differently on him, with perfect creases aligned with his steely posture. _

_  In a few short weeks he shot to the top of the class as the best student in his year, then the organizer of the class’s project during the festival, and then class president.  Girls who had once seen him as weak and effeminate shyly approached him in invitation. Kids who had once mocked him, avoided him for fear of being tainted with the same untouchable reputation now flocked to him, invited him everywhere and even those who had bullied him now wanted to be his friend.  Bullies steered clear of him now, gut instincts warning them not to trifle with him. Not that he went looking for fights; he was far too wise to waste time picking fights when there were other things he could focus his efforts on.  _

_ He should’ve been overwhelmed by his fame, or at least stumbled under the weight of it, but he wielded his social power as if he had done it a thousand times before.  A part of him, the part that had been there since the night he had received the millennium Ring wanted to scream that it was too good to be true, that something was terribly wrong, that he would be revealed as an imposter.  _

_ But the voice inside of him reassured him that this was only right and just, as this was what he was owed for all he had suffered. _

_ If only he had known sooner that the voice that had consoled him was not his own. _

  
  


_ It was the last day of school and Ryou could not remember a day he had been happier.  He had been awarded a medal of honor for being the top student, was given the award for being the most productive class president and his class had even hoisted him up onto their shoulders to the cheering applause of the school. He felt lighter than air, he felt like dancing like dancing the way home from school and that the smile on his face would never leave.  He would go home, get changed quick, and then make his way to Ami-chan’s house for the end-of-the-year party she was hosting for everyone. He knew he probably looked stupid but he couldn’t stop from grinning.  _

_ Mom and Amane would be so proud of him.  He imagined they were looking down on him, high-fiving each other for being great guardian angels to get him where he was.  He smiled at the thought. _

_ He made his way to the school gate happily until he recognized the figure that stood waiting for him.  Shit, Karita-sensei. He knew Karita-sensei had never liked him, had always thought he was a pathetic wimp, but with his classmates on his side he had been able to fend off Karita’s bullying.  Now, there was no one he could hide behind. “Bakura!” Karita-sensei barked, his face beet-red and his fists clenched as he approached him. “You owe me a hundred laps around the school! Don’t think that because you flashed some fake doctor’s note you can bullshit your way out of my class nancy boy!”   _

_ “But Karita-sensei,” he beseeched obligingly.  “School’s over now. I’m sorry I missed so many of your classes but my doctor didn’t want me to risk my health.  Could I make up the extra exercises this fall?” While he had abandoned his former groveling, something told him that appeasing the man’s pride would work better than standing his ground.       _

_ Karita-sensei’s face bulged with barely suppressed rage and for a moment Ryo was afraid his head might explode.  “You little shit! Don’t think you can weasel out of my fucking class! You may have everyone else fooled with your innocent act but I’m not falling for it!” _

_ To his surprise Karita-sensei grabbed him by the arm and began hauling him off towards the direction of the gymnasium, cursing and digging his fingers in cruelly all the while. With little in the way of physical strength he was powerless to resist as he was dragged towards the building.  The familiar rush of shame and fear began to well up in him before it was smothered by the cold confidence of a strategist. Let Karita-sensei win this battle, a voice whispered, he would win the war. He would see how good Karita-sensei was at playing games…. _

  
  
  


_ Karita-sensei shoved Ryou towards the track, not bothering to switch on the lights that had been shut off for the summer.  “Start running Bakura! A hundred laps now! And don’t you dare try to slack off with me sissy-boy!”  _

_               Ryou didn’t dare contradict Karita-sensei.  As he was right now it wouldn’t be difficult to imagine Karita-sensei strangling him with the jump rope if he slowed down in the slightest.  While he wasn’t anyone’s first pick, he could hold a decent pace long enough to get Karita-sensei off his back. Thank God he was forced to walk everywhere or he really would have been screwed.  He could feel Karita-sensei watching him with beady eyes, on the lookout for any sign of slowing down or trying to cut across the track. At the very least, Ryou thought, the man earned his paycheck.   _

_ After forty-five minutes he had a sitch in his side and he could feel his heart trying to jump out of his throat.  He was finished with thirty of his hundred laps and already felt like dying. Surely Karita-sensei would let him take a break, even he wouldn’t be able to say he hadn’t been running his butt off.  “Karita-sensei” he wheezed, as he half jogged, half stumbled his way to the finish line. “Can I please take a break to drink some water? I’ve been running for almost an hour.”  _

_ Karita-sensei eyed him with a mix of contempt and satisfaction as he took in the state of his exhausted student. “A break huh?  I bet you wish you never decided to punk out of my class now, do you pansy-boy?”  _

_ “No, Karita-sensei,” he wheezed, still bent over on his knees.  “I wish I had never missed your class.” Ryou could feel Karita-sensei’s eyes drag over him, lingering on his trembling thighs and flushed skin.  Trying to look as respectful and contrite as possible, he bowed before Karita-sensei before meeting his eyes meekly. “Sensei, it’s getting late and I need to get back home.  I know I have been disrespectful and impudent by missing your class but please allow me to apologize by coming in for the rest of the summer to make up my missed days.” As if.  Grades were final on the last day and one of the props of being independent meant he could decide when and what classes he wanted to take. He would skip gym this year and either take a judo class outside school or make it up his senior year.  Of course, Karita-sensei would probably have a coronary, but that wasn’t his problem.  _

_ Something sly and vulgar crossed over Karita-sensei’s eyes.  Something he didn’t like. Karita-sensei smiled, standing up from the bleachers to look down at him. “It’s good that you’re sorry Ryou.  It shows that you’ve learned not to question a man’s authority.” Ryou could feel the warning bells going off in his head that something was off, that he was in danger, but he could also feel a foreign wrath rising within him at the threat. _

_ “Tell you what, Ryou,” Karita-sensei clasped his hand on his shoulder and it felt as welcome as a dead pig.  “Come with me back to my place and we can work out how you’ll make it up to me, I’ll even give you a ride back home.  You live alone, right?” _

_ If he had been wary before he was downright paranoid now.  Gently extricating himself from the hold Karita-sensei had on him he sought the best possible way to disengage himself from the situation without exacerbating it.  “I’m afraid I can’t Karita-sensei. My father just got back from his dig in Egypt and he’s waiting for me to come home. Perhaps tomorrow he can call you about arranging a time for me to make up my missed exercises.” _

_ Without warning Karita’s hand lashed out to backhand him across the face, sending him crashing down into the bleachers.  “You little bitch,” he snarled, jerking him by the hair, “I know for a fucking fact that your father isn’t home and you’re not leaving this place until I get what I want.”  Karita-sensei mashed his mouth against his, teeth bumping and tongue probing, yanking at his shirt until the buttons popped free and his hands were free to maul him. Karita-sensei’s body, heavy, too heavy, was suddenly on top of him and Ryou screamed bloody murder.   _

_ Karita-sensei slapped him across the face harder this time, making his head jerk so hard he was afraid he’d pass out.  “Listen to me, faggot. No one is here and not even the janitors are going to come back until July. Stop struggling and I’ll make sure you enjoy it, otherwise I’ll just kill you.” _

_ Lying underneath his gym teacher Ryou was frozen with fear and shame.  Once again he was weak, too weak to be anything more than a vessel for pain.  He could feel himself leaving his body, checking out and letting himself be used just so that he wouldn’t have to endure what was going to happen.  As he faded he sensed the alien fury from before come alive again, rising to the surface like the magma of an erupting volcano. Like watching a movie he heard, more than felt, his mouth say,“Get off me, you fucking cretin,” before a knee he didn’t control jabbed into Karita-sensei’s crotch.   _

_ Karita-sensei, underestimating his resistance by his initial fear and paralysis, was caught off guard and didn’t even have time to ward off the shove that sent him toppling down the bleachers.  Ryo saw his body calmly stand up and dust himself off, looking down at his gym teacher with contempt. “I knew you were no Casanova Karita, but really, going after schoolboys? You’re pathetic.”  _

_ Karita-sensei’s eyes bulged in shock and bewilderment at the student who had almost succumbed to him moments ago that now dared to taunt him.  It was as if someone had switched Ryou Bakura with someone even more predatory than himself. _

_ Ryou had felt exposed before with his shirt open, but now, watching this other him sneer at his teacher, with the gold Ring worn proudly on his chest, he felt he was watching some savage warrior of old face off against a naive, would-be conqueror.   “Tell you what Karita, I’m not an unreasonable guy. Play a game with me and if you win I’ll let you have your fun and it’ll stay between us. But if you lose, you’ll suffer my punishment game.”  _

_  Ryou saw Karita’s eyes widen at first shock and then narrow greedily, schemingly hopeful that he could still obtain what he had coveted for so long.  Karita laughed boorishly, “I guess I was wrong about you Ryou, you really do have guts! I’ll play your game, kid, tell me the rules.” _

_ The spider smiled at the fly.   _

_ “It’s very simple,” he said sweetly, strolling down the bleachers to meet Karita.  “All you have to do is pick a card and the most powerful card wins.” Karita laughed again, confident in his power.  No doubt he thought that even if he lost he could still overpower him.  _

_ “I’d at least thought a book lover like you would have picked a game that required some strategy.  Not that I mind.” He took the first card off the deck that Bakura held out to him, not seeming to care if he so much as received Kuriboh.   _

_ “Ha!  Well would you look at that!” Karita crowed as he held up Man-Eater Chest, with it’s impressive 1800 attack points. “Seems like I’ve got you between a rock and a hard place if you know what I mean kid!” Karita’s eyes gleamed maliciously as they roved over his body, sure that his victory would render him the spoils he desired.    The other him chuckled darkly, looking up at Karita from under his lashes. Was he  _ **_flirting_ ** _ with him?  _

_ “Oh no, whatever will I do,” he said sarcastically as he pulled a card from the middle of his deck.  “Oh wait, I know,” he drawled smugly as he held out his Dark Necrofear with 2800 attack points for Karia to see.  “I’ll just pull out the only card stronger than yours to beat your pitiful ass and reject your pitiful cock.”  _

_ “What the fuck!” Karita roared, throwing down his card and looking ready to charge the other him.  “You cheated! There’s no way you could have known exactly where the strongest card was without putting it there yourself!” Karita was heaving like a wounded bull, practically frothing at the mouth. _

_ “Or,” the other him said smugly, “The gods just don’t want you to get laid today.” _

_ That seemed to push him over the edge.  Karita’s eyes glinted maliciously as he grabbed the other him’s open shirt collar to yank him close, mouth curved up fiendishly. “Oh yeah?  Fuck the gods and fuck this game. And most of all, fuck you.”  _

_ “I thought you might say that” he replied smoothly, unfazed by Karita’s obvious intent.  “It’s a shame you forgot about my punishment game,” he said, pulling out one of his RPG tokens that he had taken with him that morning to play with his friends later.  “See you in the afterlife. I hope you like doll houses.”  _

_ “What the fuck?  By the time I’m finished with you faggot I’ll--” except Ryou never got to hear the rest of Karita’s rant before he dropped down face-first onto the floor, nose instantly breaking against the metal bleachers. _

_ The other him laughed lowly as he tossed the token into the air. “Thus always to tyrants, Karita-sensei.  We gladly feast on those who would subdue us.”  _

__ **_We._ **

  
  


_ The rest was a blur.  There were bits and pieces that he remembered after that, but nothing substantial.  The other him calling Ami-chan to let her know he was sick and couldn’t come; taking Karita’s watch and cash so it would look like a mugging; putting the RPG token in Amane’s old dollhouse.  What he felt wasn’t fear, but curiosity and gratitude for the person who had saved him, not just from Karita-sensei, but from the misery of his old life. When he finally regained awareness, already in bed and about to fall asleep, he whispered aloud “thank you.”   _

_ That night he had the worst nightmare he ever had.  There was Karita-sensei with his heavy body pressing down against him; Amane spurting blood in her seat; Papa abandoning him in the front yard; the bullies throwing trash at him and calling him fag.  “Someone help me,” he sobbed, “Please God, isn’t there anyone who can help me? Please!!”  _

_ “I’m here, Ryou.  I won’t abandon you,” a voice whispered.  He raised his head and saw his reflection facing him, no that wasn’t it, it was  _ **_himself_ ** _.  “Who are you?” he choked, “What are you?”  He saw his reflection smile but it wasn’t  _ **_his_ ** _ smile; it was crueller, wickedly gleeful.  It was the smile of a vulture.  _

_ “I’m you, Ryou.” His doppleganger responded, more gently than Ryou thought he was capable of.  “I am your darkness.”  _

_ “Don’t leave me,” he begged. “Please don’t ever leave me.”   _

_ “I won’t Ryou.  I’ll always take care of you.  I will be with you forever.”  _

_ With a cry Ryou threw himself into the arms of his darkness, throwing his arms about his neck and burrowing his face into his chest.  The darkness returned his embrace, holding him so closely that he thought it was Mama, so tenderly that Ryou remembered what it was like to be loved. _

  
  


_ For the first time since Mama and Amane had died he was no longer alone.  Even when he by himself in his room or in the solitude of his own thoughts he could feel the comforting presence of his darkness nestled alongside him.  Yami was more than a friend, more than anyone had ever been to him. He was the invisible brother that counseled him, the wise father that protected him, the friend that played with him, the mother that loved him.  He loved his darkness with every breath and beat of his heart and his darkness loved him. They talked for hours at a time, sometimes until the sun came up and he walked blearily to school. Yami told him stories of his past, sharing with him the memories of his life in Kul Elna, the night of the bloodbath that was inflicted upon his people, the 99 bodies and souls that were sacrificed to create him so that Egypt could be saved.   _

_ “Are you the soul of the thief king or the souls of the sacrificed?” Ryou asked his darkness once.    _

_ “I exist within the souls everyone but I can only grant the desires of one,” his darkness had replied.    _

_ When he blanked on a history test, Yami was there, whispering him the answers.  When he faltered in his debate, it was Yami’s voice that snapped back witty comebacks.  When his crush approached him and he almost fled the room, it was Yami’s elegant confidence that charmed her into being his date.   _

_ “Should I tryout for basketball Yami?  I don’t know if I can make it.”  _

_ “Of course you should Ryou.  You were born to play basketball and I’ll be there if you need any help.”    _

_ “Oh God, I’m so nervous about my interview.  What do I say? What if I mess it up?”  _

_ “Let me take care of it Ryou.  I’ll take over during your interview.  Just sit back and let me handle it.”  _

_ “How do I tell the bank that I need an extension on the loan?  I can’t do it, I’m too scared.”  _

_ “Don’t worry Ryou.  I’ll do it.” Anything that was too difficult or unpleasant, Yami took care of.  The uncomfortable conversations, the exhausting late nights, the miserable chores that needed to be done, he was spared from it all by his darkness.  It was like being under partial anaesthesia; he was aware of everything that happened while his Yami took control but he was numb to it, as if he heard and saw everything from underwater. There were other times, however, when he didn’t remember anything at all.  When he felt like he had been put under for a week and woke up to a strange new world. He wasn’t bothered. He knew Yami would never do anything to hurt him. He only had his best interests at heart. _

_  One day however, after he had let Yami take control again, he woke up feeling uncomfortably wet and sticky.  He remembered being confused, because whenever Yami took control he had always made sure to leave his body well-attended.  He stepped into the bathroom, peeling off his sticky clothes before turning on the shower. As he stood under the spray he could feel his body sag with relief, aching muscles melting with the warmth.  A sense of foreboding crept over him; his body felt as if he had spent the last week wrestling with bears, what the hell had Yami been doing?  _

_ He flicked on the lights irritably; he would have to have a talk with him later.  He walked past his mirror to grab fresh clothes from his dresser and stopped dead in his tracks.  His chest and shoulders were  _ **_covered_ ** _ in bruises and his legs looked like a patchwork of welts.  He felt the blood drain from his face; dear God, what had his darkness  _ **_done_ ** _!  He rushed into the bathroom, flicking on the lights he hadn’t bothered with in the early morning dimness.  What he saw then nearly made him pass out. The clothes he had stripped off and tossed into the hamper were  _ **_soaked_ ** _ with blood.  Hands shaking, he flicked on the lights to the rest of his bedroom and couldn’t stop the scream that escaped him.   _

_ A sickening trail of red he had been too tired to notice criss-crossed his room, beginning from the door to end at the red stain that covered his bed.  “Yami! What the hell did you do?! What the hell did you make me do!” He felt his darkness stir sleepily, yawning at the outrage in his voice.  _

_ “It’s nothing to worry about, Ryou.  I had to take care of someone who was a threat to us.  The blood isn’t ours anyway, we’re fine.”  _

_ “The hell it is!  I don’t want to hurt people! Who could have possibly threatened us?  Did you kill someone?” _

_ His darkness responded slowly, voice soft and placating. “I was taking care of some business with Hiroshi-sama last night, Ryou.  He gave me a bonus for the extra hours I worked closing up the shop this week. I noticed someone following us while I was walking home.  I realized I had seen him earlier around the shop and that he had followed us home. When I ran, he attacked me, and I used my knife to defend us before he ran away.   I was barely able to drag us home before I passed out. I didn’t kill him Ryou, and even if I did, would I be wrong for trying to defend us?”  _

_ Ryou felt himself flush with shame at his ingratitude.  How could he attack the only person who cared about him?  He had been so quick to judge him without even knowing what happened. Yami loved him, took care of him, protected him, and this was how he repaid him?   “I’m sorry, Yami. I didn’t mean to attack you. I should’ve trusted you.”  _

_ “Just trust that everything I do is for your benefit.  What you want is what I want and to hurt you would be to hurt myself.”  _

_ Perhaps if he had been brave enough to ask his darkness why there was so much blood if he didn’t kill the mugger he could’ve stopped things before they went any farther.  But then, Ryou had never learned how to love without begging.  _

  
  


_ It wasn’t until a few weeks later when he was searching his dresser drawer for a clean pair of socks as he was getting ready for school that he was forced to wonder about what else Yami did when he took over.  It was near the end of the semester and with final exams, extracurriculars, and his job, he hadn’t had a chance to do laundry in the last two weeks. He probably should’ve done as Yami suggested and just bought some new socks but he had disliked the idea of spending money just because it was expedient.   _

_ He stretched his arm futilely towards the back of his top dresser drawer, trying to find at least a shred of clean socks he could wear to school.  Thrusting his arm forward before he surrendered to wearing dirty socks he felt his fingers graze cloth and he snatched at it victoriously. With a self-satisfied smile, he pulled his bundled socks out of the drawer, only to be confused when he saw that he was not, in fact, holding coveted clean socks, but a thick roll of hundred dollar bills.  He blinked stupidly at the money in his hand. This was at least twice the amount of money that Papa sent him every month for expenses, maybe more. He stood dazed with the money in his hand for a few moments until his brain came to the obvious answer.  _ **_Yami_ ** _. _

_    At the thought of his name his darkness snapped to attention from his quiet observation.  “It’s our emergency fund, Ryou.”  _

_ Ryou looked at the cash in hand disbelievingly.  “Why didn’t I know about this? How did you even get this money?” _

_ “It’s the bonus I got from Hiroshi-sama, remember?  I put it there in case we needed some fast cash.” _

_ Ryou counted the cash in his hand.  It was a little over $2,000. Before his Yami could say another word he pulled his top drawer completely free of the dresser and emptied it out onto the ground.  Fifteen rolls of wadded up hundreds stared up at him accusingly from the carpet and he felt a sick anger begin to brew in his gut.  _

_ “We need to get to school Ryou.  We can’t be late for final exams.” The fact that Yami didn’t even bother to explain the money disgusted him. Right now he couldn’t care less if he flunked all his exams.   _

_ “I’m not going anywhere until you tell me how you got this money.”  _

_ “Don’t be unreasonable Ryou, what happened to trusting me?  We have to get to school  _ **_now_ ** _.” _

_ Ryou felt his legs move toward the door, his arms swinging his bag over his shoulder. “Stop Goddammit!  You can’t just force me! Stop!” But his body betrayed him, legs marching swiftly out the door before his hands locked the door with practiced ease.  He couldn’t even slow his pace in defiance. _

_ “Just be grateful that we have this money.  I’ll explain after we’re finished with exams.”   _

_ But Yami never did explain later and Ryou never mustered the courage to ask.  He had passed his exams with flying colors thanks to Yami and he couldn’t find the nerve to be angry with him.  It made it easier, at least, to ignore the newspaper story about a man who embezzled his company out of $40,000 because he claimed that a ghoul had threatened his family… _

  
  


_ “We need to transfer schools, Ryou.” His darkness told him one day in July.  Ryou stopped watering the plants on the veranda. “Why do we have to do that, Yami?”    _

_ “It would be in our best interest to move to a different school.  There are those who are envious of our good fortune and would like to see us ruined.  We’re connected to too many questionable incidents as it is.”  _

_ Ryou had long since stopped arguing with his darker half for the most part.  Time and again Yami had proven the superiority of his judgment. Even when Ryou had disagreed with him, resisted him, they always ended up better off because of his darker half’s decisions.    _

_ “If you think that’s best.” It would be hard to leave behind his friends and the life he had, but Yami never did anything without reason.    _

_ “Don’t worry, Ryou. I’ll find you new friends and new clubs to join.  Think of it as a fresh start.”  _

_ Picking up the watering can to finish watering the azaleas, Ryou felt at peace with the future ahead of him.  Everything he had ever wanted, friends, safety, comfort, success, had all been because of Yami. He would probably be under these flowers instead of watering them if Yami had never come into his life.  The only way his life could get any better, he thought, as he strolled through the fragrant garden he tended, was a family to share it with… _

  
  
  
  



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